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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772294">three of a kind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilast/pseuds/aquilast'>aquilast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mafia (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friendship, Gen, Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:28:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilast/pseuds/aquilast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five short stories revolving around Sam, Paulie and Tom and the little things they get up to.</p><p>(1) it's a gift [Sam's having a bad day and Tom and Paulie try to cheer him up.]<br/>(2) me and my gal [Sam and Paulie offer Tom dating advice.]<br/>(3)<br/>(4)<br/>(5)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. it’s a gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title of each chapter are film titles from the 1930s but are not related in any way to the content of the films.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>To say Sam was upset would be an understatement.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>when dealing with anger or any intense emotions, i imagine Sam would bottle/swallow everything and deal with it on his own and instead of reacting, he’d remove himself from the situation just to get his head together but his thoughts would run wild (he just doesn’t show it.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>1931</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><strong>THERE WAS A DARK, UGLY COFFEE</strong> <strong>STAIN </strong>on Sam's grey suit jacket that was staring right back at him in the mirror. At this very moment, he was one more incident away from grabbing a random guy off the street and strangling him out of pure frustration and exasperation. </p><p>The dark grey colour of his suit hid the brown stain slightly but the fact that it's there, tainting and soiling the perfect fabric of his favourite (and most expensive one, at that) suit was pissing Sam off to a whole new degree. No matter how many times he attacked at the stain with a handkerchief, it just won't go away and actually seemed to make it worse. It wasn't a big stain - just a medium-sized patch which escaped from his cup when he accidentally bumped into the side of the counter, causing him to flinch and pull away instinctively - but it was more than enough to cause the scowl on his face to become a permanent feature for the day.</p><p>As he washed his hands in the sink, rubbing the skin under the faucet aggressively, he recalled the day's events. </p><p>The Don had sent him to do the rounds to collect the protection money from the businesses with Carlo since Paulie and Tom were busy with another job. It was a regular routine and Sam didn't expect much trouble from the local businesses except for a bit of holdouts here and there. After a bit of intimidation and some reminding about who runs the town and keeps the peace, the shop owners will eventually cave. Still, he kept his piece in his belt and had an ear and eye out for any signs of trouble.</p><p>It was going smooth until they reached Chinatown, their last stop. Despite getting a pretty brutal reminder from Paulie in '30, Eugene's nephew (<em>what the hell is his name again?</em>) was still a hardhead and today, when Sam came to collect, he was even more relentless. The moment Sam and Carlo walked through the door of the antique shop, the kid yelled out in Chinese and soon enough they were surrounded by several men. Before one of them could shoot, Sam had already dove behind a Chippendale sofa for cover, grabbing Carlo with him. The sofa was thick enough that the bullets hardly penetrated it. With quick and precise aim, Sam managed to take down most of the men while Carlo shot down the rest. </p><p>Just as Sam thought it was over, the kid decided to grab the money he owed in a bag, leap over the counter, and bolt through the front doors which led to a chase on foot through the back alleys. In Sam's head, this was all extremely unnecessary. In the previous months, the antique shop was doing well - so well that the kid was able to pay up what he's owed on time. Why he finally decided to start a shootout in his own fucking store was beyond Sam but one thing's clear - they were going to get the money back and Sam's going to put two in the kid's head for wasting his time like this. </p><p>The kid didn't make it far before getting bumped off the hood of a car on the main road outside of Chinatown. Upon seeing the kid's mangled body on the ground, Sam decided to stick his gun back in his belt. They grabbed the money and fled the scene before the cops showed up. It was only when they were back in the bar that Sam realised that the bag didn't contain all of the money the kid owed - just a meagre one-third of it. It's not like they could go back to the antique store to grab the rest of it - the place was surely crawling with cops because of the gunfight. Gritting his teeth, he returned to the Don with the news and all the money that was collected and explained what went down. Lucky for Sam, although Salieri was clearly disappointed at losing a business to extort, the Don didn't give him any heat for it. </p><p>Still, the fact that all of that could have been avoided if the kid just <em>fucking paid up</em> made Sam sigh in pure, utter annoyance. Needing a smoke, he reached into his jacket pocket for his cigarettes, only to feel it empty. If Sam wasn't already annoyed, he was now. The box must have fell out of his pocket without him realising when he dove behind the sofa in the antique store. The cigarettes sold in the bar weren't exactly his kind to smoke so he decided to make the drive in his car to a tobacco shop a couple of blocks down the road.</p><p>But as he reached into his other pocket, there were no car keys to be found. </p><p>Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Sure, he was absolutely irked but there was no point in losing his head yet. He got himself some coffee from Luigi to calm himself down and that was when he bumped into the counter as he rounded it.</p><p>And now here he was, rubbing his hands raw under the sink, eyes cold and piercing enough to kill a man, teeth clenched so hard they could break and a scowl so profound and prominent that it would probably even make Morello himself run away in fear. These were all tiny incidents - small inconveniences - but the more Sam thought about it and how it all led up to him staining his best suit, the more he wanted to storm up to the next hatchet man of Morello's who even <em>dares</em> to show up in Little Italy and blast his head to pieces with a shotgun. </p><p>A loud knock on the bathroom door pulled him roughly away from his increasingly disturbing thoughts. Tom was standing behind it and upon seeing the look on Sam's face, he recoiled slightly. </p><p>"Woah, you okay, buddy?" </p><p>"What do you think?" Sam snapped, glowering.</p><p>Tom cleared his throat and his eyes drifted to Sam's hands - red and looking as though it burned to touch. </p><p>"What the hell were you doing in there?"</p><p>"Takin’ a leak, washing my fuckin' hands. What else do you do in a damn bathroom?"</p><p>"Someone's <em>clearly</em> having a good day."</p><p>For what seemed to be the umpteenth time today, Sam sighed, bringing a hand to massage the crease between his brows. Chuckling, Tom slung an arm over his shoulder and led him out to the bar where Paulie sat at a booth, staring absent-mindedly out the window. There was a box sitting on the table and Tom all but pushed Sam to sit down next to Paulie before taking the seat across them.</p><p>"Hey, Sam!" Paulie smiled, nudging Sam with his elbow by way of greeting.</p><p>Sam only muttered out his own in return.</p><p>"He's in a bad mood, Paulie," said Tom, voice mixed with a bit of pity and amusement.</p><p>"Aw, really? Well, I bet this would make you feel better," Paulie exclaimed, reaching over to the box and opening it.</p><p>Inside the box was a cassata, beautifully decorated with candied fruits and a mint leaf on top. Paulie had already launched into a long explanation of how they got it - something about them chasing down a thief who snatched an old lady's purse as they were passing by and how said lady gave them the dessert as thanks. Most of the other details went out the other ear. Looking at the cake made Sam hungry and Tom was already cutting slices for each of them. As Sam took his plate gratefully from Tom, Paulie, in a sudden burst of movement in excitement, nudged Sam in the side harder than usual which caused the cake to topple and land right on Sam's already sullied suit.</p><p>It was as if Sam had froze in time. The man didn't move - he just sat there, staring at the offensive slice of cake that fell onto his suit with the fiercest glare Paulie and Tom had ever seen for a good two minutes. In Sam's mind, he was trying to process what exactly had just happened and was trying his damnedest to calm himself down before he said something he regretted. As gently as he possibly could, he set the plate down and stood up, exiting the building via the front door in hasty, quiet steps, fists balled up so tightly his knuckles turned white.</p><p>Then, he crossed the road and hailed a taxi which would take him back to his apartment.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Hours had passed since Sam had arrived back home. Evening had come and settled and he was now lounging on the couch in a clean set of clothes, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette between his lips. No calls came in from Frank but he still changed into another suit just in case. In his line of work, you never knew when you would get the call. </p><p>He sat there in silence, keeping a lid on. Now that he was alone, comfortable and clean, the intense emotions which fueled him earlier were dissipating and a part of him wanted to return to the bar just so he could taste the cassata. But he decided against it, not wanting to create another disaster for himself. Sam rarely, if ever, lost his temper and it seemed silly to him now that he almost lost it all because of a bad job, lost items and stains on his suit albeit that suit really was his best and most expensive one and it was a great loss to him that it was ruined.</p><p>Just as he was about to take another sip of his drink, there were two loud knocks on his door. Cautious, he slowly stubbed the cigarette out on the ashtray, placed the glass down and approached the door carefully, reaching out to the table by the door for his gun while the other hand grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open a crack. He was greeted by the sight of Paulie and Tom with the latter standing there sheepishly.</p><p>"What the hell are you both doing here?" Sam asked, a lot more harshly than he intended.</p><p>"You gonna let us in or not?" said Paulie, ignoring Sam's question.</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Sam opened the door wider and the two men stepped in awkwardly. They were shielding something behind their backs and entered the apartment in a way that would not reveal what exactly they were hiding. Sam's eyes narrowed in suspicion and dread, wondering just what did Paulie manage to drag Tom into.</p><p>With his arms folded across his chest, Sam waited for one of them to explain themselves. He rarely ever had guests and very few people have ever stepped foot into his home before. If visitors ever came, they tend not to stay too long. </p><p>“We know you’re mad,” Tom began, “and we know you really like that suit since you wear it all the time - “</p><p>“I do <em>not</em> wear it all the time,” Sam interrupted sharply.</p><p>Paulie interjected, pulling out a long, wrapped parcel on a clothes hanger from behind his back.</p><p>“What Tommy’s trying to say is that we got you a new one. Not the same one of course - Christ, who can afford that? - but it kinda looks the same.”</p><p>Sam stared at the loosely wrapped parcel in Paulie’s hands and took it tentatively. He hung it on a doorknob and carefully removed the parchment, exposing a suit that was similar to the ruined one. He felt the fabric - it was definitely not the same - and ran his fingers around the pockets, collar and buttons. It’s dark grey though with the same square buttons. </p><p>“If you think it’s shit, I just wanna let you know that it’s Tommy’s choice!” Paulie called from behind him.</p><p>Sam could hear the two men behind bickering quietly and he refrained from smiling as he turned around.</p><p><em>What idiots.</em> They didn’t have to get him another suit - he was already planning to replace the sullied one tomorrow. There was no need for that now though, a new one’s already here.</p><p>“It’s not bad,” Sam finally said, breaking his silence, a small smile forming despite his pointless attempt not to.</p><p>”Is the one you’re wearing now expensive too?” Tom asks cheekily. Then, carefully, he pulled out a box from behind him. “‘Cause I got the cassata and I’m hoping we get to eat it this time.”</p><p>”We kinda gave some to the Don and Frank but there’s still a slice for each of us!” said Paulie, beaming.</p><p>Sam couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. </p><p>“Alright, alright. But you ain’t sitting next to me this time, Paulie.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey! i really, really, really wanted to write something lighthearted with the trio so here it is! i’ve already figured out the general idea for all five shorts and i can’t wait to write the rest.</p><p>i hope you’ll like it! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. me and my gal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tom wants to take Sarah out on a date and Paulie “I-can’t-get-a-girl-to-stick-with-me-even-if-we-swam-through-glue” Lombardo and Sam “the Ladykiller” Trapani have decided to help him out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>1932</strong>
</p><p> </p><p><strong>PAULIE WAS THE FIRST ONE </strong>to notice Tom’s furrowed brow and thoughtful face as he sat on a stool by the bar. He was staring intensely  into the wooden countertop, fingers idly holding onto a cigarette that was barely smoked and his jaw visibly clenching and unclenching. </p><p>Paulie leaned against the doorway that led to the back of the restaurant, observing his friend quietly. The man at the bar was so lost in thought that he hardly said a word or even looked up when Little Tony passed by and greeted him. He was completely absorbed in whatever was running through his head that the rest of the world didn’t seem to matter anymore.</p><p>It wasn’t until Sarah emerged from the kitchen that Tom finally shifted in his seat and smiled. </p><p>
  <em>Ah. </em>
</p><p>Paulie couldn’t help but grin too. He had already long suspected that Tom was infatuated with Luigi’s daughter but his suspicions were now solidified as he stared at Tom’s face, eyes lit up brighter than the sun and a smile that stretched so wide it looked painful. He looked like the typical fool in love.</p><p>Turning his head away from the scene to cough out a laugh, he found Sam standing behind him, looking at him with a brow raised and a questioning face. Paulie simply jerked his head at Tom’s direction who was now conversing with Sarah and watched as Sam looked on while snickering. They shared a knowing look and, after Sarah left the bar, snuck up to Tom on either side slyly, essentially trapping him to his stool.</p><p>“So...” Paulie began with a straight face, deliberately trailing off.</p><p>”Sarah, huh?” continued Sam, voice lowered.</p><p>Tom groaned and stubbed out his cigarette on the silver ashtray in front of him.</p><p>”Since when did you two assholes get back?”</p><p>”We followed the call of love and it led us here,” said Paulie with an exaggerated flourish of his hand. “We’re romantics at heart, Tommy.”</p><p>“What — you guys so bored ya gotta play cupid?” asked Tom sarcastically.</p><p>”For you, buddy, we won’t just ‘play’ — we’ll become cupid itself!” Paulie declared, a strong hand patting Tom in the back.</p><p>A bark of laughter escaped Sam, loud and delightfully amused. </p><p>“Paulie, I think Tom and I both agree that you ain’t the best guy to go to for any advice about ladies.”</p><p>Now it was Tom and Sam’s turn to share a look — pointed and the meaning behind their gaze was obvious. </p><p>Paulie scoffed, hands resting on his hips. “Well, alright then Mr. Ladykiller. Ya telling me you know better? Years I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you with the same dame twice!”</p><p>“Will you guys keep it down?” Tom snapped. “I don’t need any help to get with Sarah — I know what to do.”</p><p>“That right? So ya know where to take her — what sorta flowers she likes — what kinda food she likes — the suit you’re gonna wear, huh?” said Sam, launching into a full interrogation. “Ya gonna drop her off home after? Where are you gonna go after the first destination? What else are ya gonna do when the first act’s done? What car are you gonna pull out to impress her? Ya gonna wear a tie that matches the colour of her dress or not? <em>Well?</em>"</p><p>The words that left Sam were like bullets piercing right through Tom and it stunned him to silence. Paulie looked at the former, thoroughly impressed and then returned his gaze to Tom who was rubbing the back of his neck nervously.</p><p>"C'mon, of course I know all of that," lied Tom unconvincingly, clicking his tongue and turning away from Sam.</p><p>"Sure ya do," said Sam, laughing to himself.</p><p>Paulie threw a comforting arm over the lovestruck fool and leaned into him.</p><p>"Don't beat yourself up, buddy! Just listen to the Casanova over here, and you'll be fine." His voice dropped to a whisper. "He's popular with the ladies for a reason. Something about him they see that we can't."</p><p>They chuckled among themselves and Sam shoved both of them playfully but enough to send the stool Tom was sitting on rocking slightly.</p><p>"Alright, fine," Tom laughed, raising his arms as though he was surrendering. "Help me out, will ya?"</p><p>The three of them shifted from the bar to a booth in the corner. From an outsider's perspective, they would guess that the three men were having an important and serious conversation by the way they had their heads together and the somber expression plastered across their faces. </p><p>"Now, Sarah ain't so easily impressed. She's seen things - probably more than we have - and her old man's still got a lot of life in him," said Sam, "so don't go bringing up the tough guy act. Just be a gentleman, you know? Get her some flowers, open the door for her, tell her she looks beautiful, pick up her fallen handkerchief - all of that. Don't oversell it. You can handle that, right?"</p><p>Tom nodded stiffly, gripping onto every word Sam says. To Paulie, all of the things Sam mentioned were pretty obvious but seeing as how the fool was completely nervous about dealing with his infatuation and was even willing to hear whatever bullshit Sam had to say made him keep his mouth shut about it. Tom, with his mind running everywhere and the gears in his brain going into overdrive, probably thought Sam was like a prophet spewing out the gospel truth.</p><p>"I think Sarah likes buttercups," Paulie remarked suddenly. When the other two men stared at him, he gestured with a hand. "The flowers, y'know. Overheard her say something about how pretty they look to Frank. Go to a florist or someone's fuckin' yard and get her a bouquet."</p><p>"Does she know you wanna take her out on a date?" asked Sam, turning his head to look at Tom again.</p><p>"Don't think so. Anyway I plan to ask her later."</p><p>"Drink some whiskey - for liquid courage," said Paulie, simpering.</p><p>"Just be straight with her. 'Hey, let me take you out tomorrow night,' or something like that. None of that 'So, um - ah - uh - what do ya think if we - um' bullshit. Just go for it," said Sam bluntly.</p><p>Tom scoffed, puffing his chest out. "What - you think I'm gonna back out half way?"</p><p>Without hesitation, Paulie nodded sympathetically. "You was already stressin' out about it at the bar. We were watching you, pal."</p><p>"I ain't stressin' about <em>anything</em>, fellas. I was just thinkin'."</p><p>"Thinking about what?"</p><p>The new voice which intruded in their conversation made the three men sit up straight. Sarah was standing by their table, holding a clean rag, eyes shifting from each men before landing on Tom. </p><p>"Putting that brain of yours to work? Want me to call the papers?"</p><p>This time, Paulie struggled at keeping a straight face. Next to him, Tom looked like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen stiff and solid. Before he could utter a word, Sarah reached over and brushed off an infinitesimal - and possibly non-existent - crumb off his shoulder.</p><p>"There's this new film showing at the cinema tomorrow night. It'd be nice if <em>someone</em> took me to see it after work."</p><p>With that, she turned and strolled to the back rooms. As she turned to close the door, she shot Tom a teasing and playful smile, reveling in the man's surprised face. Leaning back into the booth, Sam pursed his lips and shrugged:</p><p>"Well, now you just gotta get the buttercups."</p>
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